


Junior Snitches to Daddy (uncut)

by Centeris2



Series: Poly Pile [6]
Category: Star Stable
Genre: Assault, Gen, Homophobia, I cringed every time Junior says Daddy, I learned so much about him as I wrote, Incest, Junior however was fascinating to write, Language, Poly Pile AU, Rape, Rebecca Has Friends AU, Sexism, all the bad thinsg, he's an awful person though, it's not nice it is just angst fest, just like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 10:06:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16216811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Centeris2/pseuds/Centeris2
Summary: In which Junior Buttergood finds out about Scott's friends and lovers, tells Daddy, and makes Scott's life Hell.(This is the uncensored piece, no skipping scenes or details)(Follows Scott realizing he is bisexual, Burgie wrote the piece, will put the name/link here when it is posted)





	1. Chapter 1

Fucking Scott, never around when Junior needed him. And he was always so damn cheery these days, what the fuck was up with that? Probably getting off to not getting any work done on the bridge. Not that Junior expected Scott to ever get a bridge built, the middle brother was a total dumbass, only reason Daddy hadn’t disowned the rotten moron was because he was the most physically imposing of the three sons.

Fucking Christ, of course Scott had to be the tallest. And Robert had to be the broadest, of course. Junior hated that about his brothers, you always had to PROVE you were the smartest, but when you are physically impressive it doesn’t take anything to get people to respect you. Junior had to EARN the respect of others with his intellect, but not his brothers. Well, he didn’t know how much respect people had for Robert, not with that wimpy fat baby face of his. Who would respect or even fear that overgrown toddler? No one. At least Junior could get a good laugh at how everyone pitied Robert, pretending to be nice at him down at Crescent Moon Village. 

But Robert was smart enough to make himself scarce, not like he was useful for anything anyway. Scott, on the other hand, had pissed off Junior enough to go down to the bridge himself.

Disrespectful twat, making him, Junior, the OLDEST, go all the way down to the bridge just to sniff out that lazy shit.

And he wasn’t even here! What happened to respecting your elders? Junior knew he had to rein in Scott and remind him who was boss.

Okay, Daddy was the boss, but he had put Junior in charge! And if he couldn’t control his younger brother, who would listen to him?

Unfortunately, Junior knew he had to wait to chew Scott out for ditching his work. Scott almost never came up to the house anymore, if Junior wanted to corner his younger brother he’d have to wait for him. How inconsiderate. 

Or, Junior thought as he looked at the tool shed, he could make it so Scott didn’t have a choice. He’d have to come up to the house if his shit was wrecked.

The toolshed was locked, which pissed off Junior. That was his property! Scott had no right to lock it and take the key!

It took a few kicks but Junior broke the door enough to get inside. What were all these books doing here? Scott could read? That made Junior snort. A bunch of shit about vampires and myths, what a fucking retard. Scott probably just stared at the pictures. Well, maybe Junior could find out where Scott kept disappearing to.

The chest of clothes didn’t give any clues, though Junior wondered where Scott was washing them. They smelled fresh and looked clean. The smell was a bit disgusting, it was a sickly sweet flowery scent, what kind of gay shit did Scott use to clean his clothes with? Rainbows and flower crowns?

A laugh escaped Junior when he found a stash of condoms, as if Scott could POSSIBLY need dozens of condoms! What cheap whores was he finding? He must be failing, the box had barely been touched.

A fire started in Junior’s stomach when he checked the trash and found numerous used condoms and an empty box. Was Scott really getting laid? Who would… no, there was no way Scott was getting that much action! He was just desperate and jerking off like the pathetic loser he was. 

Oh there was that one girl, who was that bimbo who had been looking for Robert? She had delivered a report for Scott… who was that bitch… blonde? Maybe? She had a horse, Junior remembered that much, and a great pair of tits. He wouldn’t mind fucking her, those breasts would be great place to hold while plowing her from behind. If she was the one Scott was fucking Junior could show her what a real man was. It was downright insulting that Scott might possibly be getting laid more than Junior! 

Scott. He was looking for Scott. Maybe Junior would ask if Scott remembered who she was. 

Junior was downright surprised by the dildos. Who was Scott using dildos on? What freaky nymphomaniac had he found that liked multiple penetration? Junior could get into that… literally.

Unless Scott used them on himself? 

…

HA!

Scott was a useless piece of shit but he was still a Buttergood. There was no way a Buttergood could possibly want to be fucked like a slut.

Now then, what was on Scott’s computer? Maybe Junior could find social media, or emails, or something that might clue him in on what Scott was up to these days. 

What was it with Scott and vampires and werewolves and all that stupid shit? His bookmarks were filled with stupid legends and myths and dumbass stories. And all the social media sites Junior could think to check were blank. Of course Scott couldn’t be normal and post what he was doing on his Jorbook page. That’d be too easy! Just make Junior’s life just a bit harder, why not?

Fine. At least there was the internet history to look through. 

Mmm. Porn. So Junior was right, Scott wasn’t getting laid he was just jacking himself. That made Junior feel better, he hated the thought of Scott getting laid more than-

Wait. If he was just masturbating, what were the dildos for? Was Scott just hopeful…?

Junior did not expect to be so… fearful? Apprehensive? He didn’t know the right word, but he was definitely worried (or something) about what would happen if he checked out the porn links. They weren’t very descriptive, just the website name, no clues about what videos or image galleries they went to.

Reflexively Junior grabbed his mouth to keep from gagging and throwing up, horrified and disgusted. This was just a fluke… Scott was an embarrassment but he wasn’t… No. Scott was just a moron and somehow didn’t realize ‘4 dick gangbang’ would lead to a guy being the one fucked. 

But it wasn’t a fluke, Junior realized as he clicked link after link in the history leading to more and more gay men fucking. Maybe… maybe Scott just really liked fucking asses? Yes, please, let it be that, please let that Buttergood Authority and Aggressiveness just extend to wanting to assert sexual authority over anyone… not just women… somehow that… might be better?

He found a pegging video. Junior closed his eyes and rubbed his face, letting out a pent up breath. Scott, his own brother… what kind of deviant was he? Why couldn’t he look at normal porn? Why did it have to be gay? Why did the women have to be the ones dominating men? Why was it the men being bound and gagged? It was disgusting, and unnatural! Women fucking men, men giving women oral, men fucking other men… what the fuck.

Junior had to tell Daddy, and Scott had to be fixed. If anyone found out about Scott it would ruin the Buttergood name, and that could not happen. If GED found out… although Ms. Drake seemed like the type of woman who would enjoy a boy toy. Her authoritative nature was repulsive, no woman should ever behave like that. Junior had fantasies about breaking her, or at the very least fucking that prideful smirk off her face. 

He left a note on the toolshed door for Scott and returned to the house to tell Daddy. And maybe take a shower, the idea of fucking blonde whores seemed like an excellent distraction.


	2. Chapter 2

Valdemar Buttergood had taken the news about how Junior had expected: with disgust and a great deal of rage. Daddy may have been weakened by his stroke but he was just as scary, and seemed to recover a great deal. Who knew rage was such good medicine? Junior was surprised by the strength with which Daddy had thrown his glass at the wall, and he was now pacing, fuming and muttering.

“I’ll handle it, Daddy,” Junior promised, hoping Valdemar wouldn’t overexert himself.

“A fucking pansy! A fucking faggot!” Valdemar swore loudly once more, dramatically sweeping his dresser clean, glass shattering on the floor.

“Daddy, I promise-”

“Where is he? Where is that pathetic cock sucker? He could be taking it up the ass right now! Disgracing the family name!” Valdemar demanded, turning his rage on Junior now.

“I don’t know! But when he comes back I promise-”

“We’ll be a laughing stock if anyone finds out! I don’t want that sissy fag to leave this house until he is straightened out!” Junior was relieved that as his father continued to shout he at least sat back down.

“As soon as he gets back-”

“I want to see him as soon as he gets back,” Valdemar snarled.

“I promise, Daddy,” Junior swore, and once he was excused he went directly to his shower. Scott no doubt wouldn’t be back for a while, and Junior was positively seething. No doubt a strong drink and some jerking would distract him. 

He tried to get into it in the shower, and when that didn’t work tried porn in his room. But he just kept thinking about Scott. He was disgusted to find out his brother was a fag, but he found himself jealous as well. Despite being an abomination he was getting laid. And that wasn’t fair! Junior hated to think how long it had been since he fucked someone, for some reason not even hookers were interested in Buttergoods. How ridiculous was that! Even gold digging hookers turned him down! 

Junior found himself glaring out his window, watching the toolshed. Where was Scott? How dare he make Junior and Daddy wait?


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh…” Rebecca muttered as she and Scott jumped over The Great Thunder and saw the toolshed. The door was broken off its hinges and there was a paper stuck to the door.

“Shit,” Scott grumbled, getting off Midnightwarrior to see what the problem was.

“Did I get you in trouble?” Rebecca asked guiltily, looking up at the mansion. Was there someone in that window?

“No…” Scott sighed, not wanting Rebecca to blame herself. Scott could have said no to joining her on a ride. 

“‘Daddy needs to see you’,” Scott read and muttered, “wonder what has Junior pissed.”

“Will you be okay?” Rebecca asked, worried.

“Yeah, they’ll probably just chew me out for not working on an impossible assignment,” Scott grumbled, ripping the paper off the door, “shame they wrecked the door though.”

“I can fix it!” Rebecca chirped, Scott not surprised when she had already pulled out a hammer. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassured her, “I’ll let you know what happens.” He glanced up at the house as he said that, noticing Junior’s window was open.

“I think he is watching, I should head up,” Scott sighed, looking up at Rebecca as she rode close to him.

“Want a lift up there? If he is watching he’s already seen us together,” Rebecca pointed out.

“I’d rather not make it worse.”

“What, a Buttergood wouldn’t consider a ride with a pretty lady a good excuse for leaving?” Rebecca smirked, “but okay, if I don’t hear from you soon I’ll worry!” she warned him before they parted ways. 

Up in the window Junior was caught between sneering and licking his lips. Scott was definitely doing some sort of fucking with that girl, if only Junior could remember her name. There was no other explanation for why Scott would ride off with her, and the way he held onto her as they rode… Scott had no right to a doll like that when Junior wasn’t getting anything. Fucking faggot.


	4. Chapter 4

“You kept Daddy waiting,” Junior snarled, bursting out the front door to meet Scott.

“Father never wants to see me, didn’t expect today to be any different,” Scott muttered, arms crossed, already on the defensive. He just wanted to get the shouting over with.

“Didn’t bring your lady friend up with you?” Junior said in a much less hostile tone, almost pouting. Was he jealous? Scott wasn’t sure.

“She’s got things to do,” Scott grumbled as he passed Junior and walked into the mansion. So Junior had been watching them. 

“I’d give her something to do,” Junior smirked, closing the door and following Scott up to Daddy’s room.

“That’s disrespectful,” Scott snapped before he could stop himself. He was in bad company and he needed to control himself. Though he had a moment of pride, looks like he was becoming a better person thanks to his new friends.

“Ha! Like you haven’t wanted the same!” Junior sneered and shoved ahead of Scott to reach Valdemar’s door first.

“He’s here,” Junior announced, though Valdemar could already see who was in the doorway.

“Get in here,” the patriarch of the Buttergoods growled, as if they weren’t already entering the room. Scott didn’t like that Junior came in as well and closed the door, blocking the way out. Not that Scott thought he’d need to make an escape, it was just sort of a default thing whenever he was in a room with his father. Before Valdemar’s stroke there were many times Scott had to run to escape injury, or in most cases more serious injury than he had already acquired. 

Scott stood before his father and braced himself, willing for this to be over with already.

“Where the fuck do you keep disappearing to!?” Valdemar demanded, and to Scott’s surprise got up from his chair.

“I have better things to do than work on an impossible task,” Scott snapped, “we all know that a bridge can’t be built there! It’s cursed or some shit.”

“Answer the fucking question!” Valdemar shouted, smashing the desk next to him with a loud thump.

“I’m an adult, I don’t need your permission-”

“You are a Buttergood! You have my name to uphold!”

“Yeah well being a Buttergood doesn’t mean shit, does it?”

“Scott!” Junior gasped, surprised his own blood could ever say something so horrible and traitorous.

“Well it doesn’t! Everyone hates us! Being a Buttergood means getting sneered at, if not outright looks of disgust and contempt!” Scott pointed out, wheeling on Junior.

“No, it’s just you who gets those looks, fucking faggot.” His father’s words made Scott go cold, he felt the blood leaving his face. How did…?

“What do you-?” Scott tried to play it off, looking back at his father, terrified when Valdemar charged at him. Even in his advanced age Scott still feared being close to the man, a lifetime of abuse screaming at him to get out of arm’s reach.

“We found out about your disgusting deviances!” Valdemar raged, grabbing Scott by the shirt and dragging the much taller son down to his level.

“We know about your disgraceful… repulsive-” Scott jerked away from the smack, angering his father further. He could shove the old man away, he could fight back, but his father was so fragile now… and Scott was not a weak man. He didn’t want to hurt his father, regardless of how despicable he was.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Scott tried to feign innocence and Junior snorted in disbelief behind him. Junior. Junior must have been the one to go into the toolshed and go through everything, what had he found?

“We’re talking about how you like it up the ass, there is no denying it with those dildos and all those videos. No straight man looks at over a dozen gay gangbang videos, or videos of being fucked by women-”

“Women!?” Valdemar howled. Junior hadn’t mentioned that part before. 

“It’s not-” Scott stammered, trying to figure some way out of this, but Junior just kept talking.

“Yes, Daddy! He likes it when women fuck him in the ass! And I found videos of men eating women out! Not to mention all the videos where the men were chained up by women-”

“Women!” their father screamed again, enraged this time, “what the fuck is wrong with you? Women are for fucking! Why would you ever- it’s even worse than I thought!” Valdemar quieted down as he groaned in disgust, Scott caught between them, unsure what to do.

“You’re a Buttergood for fucks sake! Did you not even consider how much of an embarrassment this would be if anyone found out!?” Valdemar demanded, voice growing raspy from screaming again.

“Maybe I don’t want to be a Buttergood! The family name is shit! Not that we can even be considered a family, there is no love or support here!” Scott snapped. The others wouldn’t mind if he just lived at the bangalow, right? Because he was definitely about to get kicked out.

“Love!? Have you learned nothing!? Has turning gay made you forget? Love it worthless, it is a weakness! Fear is the only thing that matters!” Valdemar snarled before adding, “I guess I need to remind you of that!”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Scott screamed, backing away when Valdemar grabbed his cane, “I’m fucking done, I’m out, okay? Turn my room into an office or some shit I don’t care!” 

“You are not leaving this house!” Valdemar warned.

“Like Hell I’m-” Scott was cut off by a jar smashing against the back of his head, stunning him.

“You heard Daddy,” Junior sneered. Scott couldn’t see the sneer but he could hear it in Junior’s voice. Scott slumped forward, disoriented, and Junior put a cloth over his face. Scott passed out just as he was thinking that of course his fucked up family would have chloroform.


	5. Chapter 5

Times like this Junior really hated being the smallest brother. It wasn’t fair! He was the oldest! He should be the strongest, tallest, and broadest!

Not that he didn’t want Scott’s head to bang against every stair as Junior carried him down, but with the honey on the back of Scott’s head it would make quite a mess. Daddy had given Junior a whack for using a jar of honey to knock out Scott, but whatever. But now Junior had to drag Scott down into the dungeon. Scott didn’t want to be a Buttergood anymore? Fine, they wouldn’t treat him like one, no more bedroom for him. 

On the bright side living in a very old mansion built on even older ruins had its perks, like the dungeon. It wasn’t widely advertised, but the Buttergoods didn’t do anything to discourage the rumors that there was a dungeon. It made for an excellent wine cellar anyway. And you never knew when you’d need to lock someone up to keep them quiet. 

While Scott wouldn’t be the first Buttergood to be imprisoned in the Buttergood dungeon, it was the first time Junior had been alive to witness it. The last time had been ages ago, maybe two hundred years ago? Didn’t really matter, point is there were cells and keys that still worked just fine.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs and the entrance to the dungeon Junior let Scott drop, groaning and stretching his back. Of course the tallest brother had to be the one to end up being gay and get himself condemned to live down here. And of course Junior was the only one who could drag him down here. 

Oh how he missed the days of servants, it must have been glorious. 

After more dragging Scott was left in one of the cells, still unconscious. Junior was glad of that, he wanted to find out where the old chains and torture equipment had gone. Maybe Scott could be persuaded to behave? 

As expected it was where Junior had left it, he had enjoyed playing with the whips when he was younger and would imagine using the devices on people. He even tried to get a few girls down here to play, but none had gone for it. According to his father there was nothing quite like whipping a woman into submission, and Junior knew he would enjoy it himself. BDSM and torture porn where his go to when he needed a release. 

But, repulsively, there wasn’t a girl locked in a cell for Junior to do whatever he wanted with. Just a disowned brother. Not that Scott could be considered a brother, that would require Junior to look at Scott as a man. And Junior couldn’t do that anymore, not when Scott wanted to be fucked like a girl.

There was that girl Scott had rode up with. Maybe there were others.

Knowing Scott wouldn’t mind, Junior fished through Scott’s pockets and found his phone. A few guesses at the password later (mom’s birthday, how quaint) and Junior was looking through the phone. Specifically, the pictures. 

To Junior’s disgust there were several attractive women in the gallery, how did a fag like Scott get all these women? There were men too, disgusting. Looks like Junior had found out where Scott kept disappearing to, he was hanging out with these people in the photos.

Scott looked happy. That made Junior angry. 

Junior scrolled past the pictures of the men, unable to stomach the pictures of men showing affection or just existing. He wanted to know if his brother had anything good of the girls. He found nothing dirtier than hugs and chaste kisses in the pictures. What kind of bullshit was this? 

At least there were a few good pictures of the girl whatever her name was. His favorite of the selection was a picture of her looking at the camera with her tongue sticking out, striking a silly pose. It wasn’t the jovial nature of the image, but how tight her tank top was, how large her breasts appeared at that angle, and how the small of her back curved out into a fine ass. 

If Scott was fucking her… Junior hated the idea that his faggot of a brother would still want guys after having her. Not that Junior had any notions that he would be happy just fucking her for the rest of his life, but damn, she looked like a good toy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains torture and incestuous rape.

Scott’s head was pounding, his ears ringing as he came to. He was sore all over, and he was on something hard. And there was a weird noise, was someone panting? He shifted and opened his eyes, trying to figure out what the noise was. 

Scott didn’t know which was worse: realizing he was in the Buttergood dungeon or seeing Junior jacking off. 

“Dude!” Scott snapped, looking away. He did not want to see that ever again. Maybe one of his friends could erase the memory from his mind. That’d be nice. 

“She’s hot,” Junior groaned, annoyed that Scott had woken up and interrupted the fantasy. 

Scott’s disgust was replaced by fear as he looked at his hands, realizing he was chained up. Oh fuck. They were serious about him not leaving.

“Who is she?” Junior asked, annoyed that he was losing his boner now. Ugh. At least he was making Scott uncomfortable. Good. Piece of shit deserved it.

“Who?” Scott didn’t look at his brother.

“Her, she a good lay?” Junior asked, shoving the phone in Scott’s face, now standing and still jerking with his other hand. 

“Could you not?” Scott asked, shifting away, not liking how close Junior was getting.

“You don’t like it?” Junior sneered, thrusting his hips at Scott’s face and laughing when Scott jerked back, “I thought you liked sucking cock!”

Scott grimaced and looked away, unhappy that the chains were limiting his movement. And the back of his head felt awful, was that blood caked back there? 

“I said I thought you liked-” Junior repeated forcefully, thrusting his hips at Scott again, shoving Scott to the end of his chain.

“Get away from me!” Scott demanded, getting up albeit unsteadily. 

The reminder that Junior was more than a head shorter than Scott made Junior’s blood boil. Junior glowered but did return his dick to inside his pants. 

“So who is she?” Junior demanded again, showing Scott the phone.

“You took my phone?”

“Don’t want you talking to your gay friends, now who is she?” Junior said as if it was obvious.

“You and father seriously think you can just lock me away?”

“Until you stop being a gay fag, yeah. Now. Who is she?” Junior asked one last time, impatient.

“This is illegal you know,” Scott pointed out.

Junior snorted before throwing his full weight into a punch, right in Scott’s gut. Okay, Scott realized, no more being a good person.

Junior scrambled away when Scott broke his nose, the chains keeping Scott from following.

“Not bad for a pansy,” Junior admitted, relieved Scott hadn’t lost his Buttergood fury. Junior licked the blood from his lips, growing exciting at the idea of breaking Scott.

“You can’t keep me here!” Scott growled. Junior laughed and walked out of the cell to where he had left his toys on the floor. Scott took a step back, now very afraid. 

“I’ve seen your internet history, I know you love a place like this,” Junior teased, picking up a flogger. Scott swallowed. That wasn’t made for sex play, that was made to rip flesh open. 

“You wouldn’t,” Scott muttered, horrified by the grin on Junior’s face.

“The safe word is her name,” Junior smirked, casting the lashes out. He was clumsy and inaccurate, Scott able to back away and only get a few cuts on his arms, held in front to protect his face and chest.

“What is wrong with you!?” Scott demanded, trying to get away from the strikes.

“You’re the gay one!” Junior snapped back, furious Scott managed to get a hand on the whip and that Scott was strong enough to keep Junior from wrenching it back. 

“I’m not even gay!” Scott shouted now. More like pansexual. But the details didn’t matter when Junior dropped the whip and picked up a bullwhip. Scott knew his family would be furious if they ever found out but this was something entirely different. Junior was glaring at him with so much hatred. Was liking guys really so awful?

Junior grit is teeth, furious his attempts at hurting Scott were doing little damage, now Scott was using the flogger to block the bullwhip. This was not what he wanted, or how he wanted it to be. He wanted to bring Scott to his knees, cut him down from his tall position. But he was fighting back, he had the audacity to deprive Junior of this!

“Stop fighting!” Junior snarled, throwing down the bullwhip and stomping his foot angrily.

“You’re the fucked up one trying to torture me!” Scott shot back.

“Let me have this!” Junior demanded, desperately wanting to throw stones at Scott but not wanting to give his prisoner ammunition.

“Have what? A chance to hurt me!? That’s fucked up!” Scott grimaced, watching as Junior stood there, scowling. To Scott’s surprise Junior stomped away.

Junior needed something heavier to bring down his brother. Luckily he was in a dungeon. 

Scott heard Junior before he saw him, chains clunking and rattling on the floor.

“You will beg for mercy,” Junior swore, heavy chains in his hands.

“All this because I like guys?” Scott asked, watching Junior’s hands carefully. 

“Oh fuck you!” Junior screamed, swinging the chain before trying to hit Scott with it.

“Go fuck yourself!” Scott shot back, dodging the poorly aimed chains. Junior growled, this was a lot harder than it looked. How did the people in movies and on tv wield chains around so easily?

“Fuck you!” Junior screamed again, swinging the chain again and again until he managed to connect with Scott. The sound of heavy iron thumping against flesh made Junior’s blood rush in excitement, the gasp of pain from Scott was… exquisite. 

“Her name?!” Junior demanded again, the chain hitting its mark more and more as Scott slowed from the pain.

“Why do you even care!? You don’t care about women’s names!” Scott grimaced, trying to protect himself from the chains, hoping Junior wouldn’t break bones.

“I don’t!” Junior laughed before the rage rushed through him, “I want to know if you’ve fucked her!”

“What?” Now Scott was very confused.

“Are you getting laid!?” Junior demanded, Scott understanding.

“You’re jealous of me!” Scott smirked, wincing when the chain hit him again.

“Jealous of what!? That you’re the tallest? That you’re getting laid more than me?” Junior growled. Scott managed a sneer, so his big brother was jealous of him. Junior stood shaking in rage, unable to swing the chain anymore.

“Jealous that a sissy slut like you…” Junior gripped the chain, knuckles turning white as he glared at his little brother. His little brother, who had renounced the family, who wanted to be fucked like a girl. His little brother, who he wanted to break. Who he was going to break. 

“Fucking fag!” Junior screamed, charging at Scott and tackling him, trying to choke him with the chains. Scott grappled, fearing for his life now as he saw the hatred and rage in Junior’s eyes. Junior took a cheap shot, strangling Scott when he got his opening. Junior forced Scott to the wall, ramming Scott’s head against the stone wall. He let go when Scott crumpled to the floor, dazed. 

Scott was barely aware as Junior undid his chains, changing them to limit his movement. He blinked, trying to focus as the world shifted, Junior moving him, binding him to shackles that Junior looped through the cell bars. Junior smirked, satisfied now Scott would only be able to sit or stand at the bar, unable to protect his back anymore. 

Junior picked up a whip, taking a deep breath, savoring this moment as he watched Scott slowly come to once more. He looked at his brother for a moment on the ground before him, annoyed once more when he realized Scott’s hair was still thick and full. Of course he had better hair than Junior.

Scott gasped when he took a direct blow from the whip to his back, snapping out of his daze.

“Junior what the fuck!?” Scott demanded, scrambling to get up.

“Stay down,” Junior advised, striking Scott again. The red flannel shirt on Scott’s back tore open, pale skin laced with red now. Fuck, it looked so good in real life. Junior wanted to see more.

“Stop!” Scott shouted, Junior striking again and again, frenzied by the blood and the cries of pain. Junior barked a laugh when Scott let out a sob of pain. It sounded so beautiful, and Junior’s rushing blood was making his pants uncomfortably tight.

“Please! Stop!” Scott begged, slumped to his knees, shirt in tatters, blood dripping to the floor. 

“You really aren’t a Buttergood,” Junior said but mercifully stopped, relishing the sound of Scott crying, “you’re just a sissy faggot, no better than a woman.” Junior kicked Scott, laughing at the whimper of pain.

“Come on, I thought you liked this shit!” Junior taunted, putting his foot on Scott’s back and pushing down. 

“Stop!” Scott pleaded, wanting the pain to stop. He was so sore from the chains, and his back felt like it was on fire. 

“Oh! I get it!” Junior declared, stepping over and kneeling down next to Scott’s head, “you’ve got a tiny dick, don’t you! That’s why you get fucked, you barely have anything more than a girl!”

Despite the pain Scott managed a snort. He knew he was on the larger side of average, his friends had all measured out of curiosity and he had won out. Among the humans anyway.

“Let’s find out!” Junior decided, grabbing Scott’s belt.

“No! Fuck off!” Scott snapped, trying to get away from Junior’s hands as the belt was undone.

Junior grumbled but stood up, pouting before he kicked Scott in the ribs, over and over again until he was sure Scott would stop fighting.

“Fuck off…” Scott gasped, hating that he couldn’t away, hating that Junior was pulling his pants down.

Junior, meanwhile, was having a terrible day. How on earth was Scott also bigger than him? That wasn’t fair! The faggot that let girls fuck him had a bigger dick than him!? Seriously!? Not only was Scott taller, and getting more action, and had better hair, he also had a bigger dick!? And he wanted to be fucked like a girl! Fine! Fine! Junior realized he would never understand why Scott was a gay boy toy.

Junior stiffly stood to his feet after staring at Scott’s dick for way too long, fuming in rage. The only thing that’d made his rage subside was screams. And that thought made Junior happy as he picked up the whip again, snapping it across Scott’s back again. He held in a moan when Scott cried out in pain.

“Stop!” Scott begged again. Oh gods, Junior loved looking at that bleeding back, that broken body on its hands and knees. 

“Say it again,” Junior ordered, letting the lashes of the whip rest on Scott’s back.

“Please… stop…” Scott swallowed thickly, hating himself.

“Well, since you said please,” Junior licked his lips and dropped the whip to the ground, fighting back a laugh when Scott sighed in relief. Scott looked back when he heard a belt and clothes fall to the floor.

“What are you- stop!” Scott screamed, trying to get to his feet, trying to get away, trapped by chains and Junior’s arm around him.

“Get off!” Scott wriggled, his stomach clenching in fear as he felt Junior, his own brother, press his hard cock against Scott’s ass. No, Junior never was a brother, was he? They were related by blood, but brother could never apply to Junior. 

“I thought you liked being fucked?” Junior taunted, reaching around and grabbing Scott’s balls, squeezing too tight and making Scott whimper in pain.

“Not this- not you- this-” Scott panted, it was hard to breath with the pain. He winced and closed his eyes, hating that he could feel Junior’s pulse, throbbing and hot and pressed against him. He could feel wetness already, was Junior really getting off to this torture? He couldn’t ask, Junior gripping his throat and positioning, squeezing Scott’s throat shut when Scott tried to clench, tried to wriggle, anything to stop this and get away.

Junior thrust up, grunting that Scott was fighting him and how tight his ass was. Junior was not about to make this pleasant for Scott, and he gripped Scott by the waist, pushing down while forcing himself inside. Junior bit his lip, moaning. The dry friction hurt, but Scott whining and whimpering in pain made it worth it, and the tightness… 

“Still like it in the ass?” Junior panted, surprised by the effort it took to get his entire cock inside Scott’s ass. Junior always figured it would be like a pussy, but going in dry and Scott refusing to relax…

“Go to hell,” Scott spat. Junior laughed and pulled out a bit before driving back in. Now that he was in he wasn’t going to stop until he was done.

“Relax sissy slut!” Junior snarled, grabbing Scott’s hair to anchor him while he pounded. Maybe there was something to this fucking in the ass, Junior was certainly enjoying the crying and blood. 

Scott was forever grateful that Junior had no stamina, Junior screaming and releasing, choking Scott as he came in a minute, maybe less. A minute of hell, and it was over. A minute of hell and Junior was laughing at him, kicking him before leaving. A minute of hell and now Scott was painfully aware of his br- of Junior’s cum in his ass.

Alone, Scott crumpled to the ground, sobbing and desperately wanting to wake up from this nightmare.


	7. Chapter 7

Scott hated that he couldn’t even get his pants back on, especially when he heard someone walking through the dungeon. He begged it would be Robert, he could free him…

The sound of a cane made Scott want to curl up and die. Father was coming. 

“Still a fag?” Valdemar sneered down at his middle son, not bothered by the obvious signs of torture and rape.

“Please, I’ll leave, I’ll never use the name Buttergood again,” Scott begged, unable to bear the idea of being trapped here forever.

“Disappointing,” Valdemar muttered, looking down at Scott.

Valdemar had once been physically imposing, six and a half feet tall or so, broad, and a nasty expression at all times. Now age and a stroke had bent him over, making him wither away. Even so, Scott was still terrified as he looked up at his father, helpless on the floor. 

“You going to beat me too?” Scott asked when the silence was too much.

Valdemar drew in a deep breath, thinking, staring down at Scott.

“Junior didn’t do the job,” Valdemar decided and walked into the cell, “so I have to make you into a man.”

“And beating me does that how?” Scott asked, curious about the convoluted logic. He knew it would be something about pain or aggression, not showing weakness, something like that. 

The question made Valdemar stop and think once more. But he didn’t give an answer, instead bringing the cane down on Scott’s back.

“That,” Valdemar brought the cane to Scott’s neck when he cried out, “is showing pain. Showing pain is a weakness.”

The second time the cane came down on Scott he grit his teeth and stifled a cry. 

The third time Scott didn’t make a sound, focusing on the burning inside, the rage and fury distracting him for the pain. He let it consume him, it was safe in the fire of his anger. 

When Valdemar stopped and began to walk away Scott looked up at his father.

“Let me out,” Scott snarled. No begging. Only demands.

“When you stop being a disgraceful faggot,” Valdemar said after a moment of thought. 

With the beating gone and the solitude closing in Scott curled up as best he could on the floor. He focused on the hatred, distracting himself with thoughts of making Junior and their father suffer.

\---

Valdemar was surprised to see Junior heading out the door, and a simple clearing of the throat made Junior stop and look.

“Yes, Daddy?”

“Where are you off to?” Valdemar asked, looking Junior up and down. He had cleaned up from the blood.

“Gonna see who is fucking the fag,” Junior said with a grin, Valdemar’s eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“The girl he was with, not the gays,” Junior clarified, Valdemar looking relieved.

“I wouldn’t mind meeting her either,” Valdemar said, not needing to add the order to his words.


	8. Chapter 8

Rebecca was not relieved when she got a text from Scott telling her to meet at the tool shed. She didn’t like how long it took, she didn’t like that he wouldn’t tell her what happened.

But she did as requested and arrived at the tool shed shortly after receiving the text. Midnightwarrior fed off her nervous energy, prancing and chomping the bit as they halted. His nostrils flared, smelling blood. Rebecca touched Midnightwarrior on the neck, conveying that she got the warning. Blood was not good. She knew the Buttergoods could be violent… had Scott been hurt? Was that why he wasn’t outside waiting for her?

“Scott?” she called, hesitant to dismount.

“In here!” a voice called that was definitely not Scott.

“Where is Scott?” Rebecca asked, not amused. There was soft grumbling inside that Midnightwarrior could pick up, but the broken door opened and Junior stood in the doorframe, shirt unbuttoned down to his chest.

“Why don’t you look for a real man?” Junior smirked. If this girl would settle for Scott she must settle for anything.

“Where is he?” Rebecca asked again.

“Come on girlie,” Junior said, walking over to the horse and rider.

“Where is he? Why did you take his phone?” Rebecca repeated, Junior getting annoyed that she was clearly not falling for him. He also didn’t like how the dark horse pinned its ears back and showed teeth. 

“Ugh fine, he’s up at the house, I’ll take you to him,” Junior grumbled, leading the way.

“Thank you,” Rebecca said curtly, noticing he didn’t explain why he had Scott’s phone. At least he probably did, Rebecca suspected he had texted her.

At the house Rebecca dismounted and followed Junior in and up the stairs. He opened a door and ushered her inside.

“Valdemar, I presume,” Rebecca muttered, aware that Scott was not in the room she had been led to. Unless Scott had suddenly aged several decades. 

“You have me at a disadvantage, I don’t know your name,” Valdemar said pleasantly from his seat. Junior closed the door, trapping Rebecca between the two Buttergoods.

“Where is Scott?” she didn’t care about pleasantries.

“Now that is rude, a proper lady should introduce herself,” Valdemar chided.

“I’m not proper, I’m pissed,” she snapped. To Junior’s confusion that made his father laugh. Rebecca didn’t appreciate the glint in the old man’s eyes when he finished laughing.

“He is being… rehabilitated,” Valdemar mulled over the final word.

“I want to see him,” Rebecca demanded, not wanting to think about what Valdemar might mean.

“Come now, there are real men here, surely we can-”

“I’m not interested in deals. Are you going to tell me where Scott is or am I going to have to tear this building apart?” Rebecca threatened, hearing the door lock behind her.

“Listen, bitch, you will show the proper respect to us,” Junior snarled, Rebecca turning to look at him and stare at the finger he was pointing in her face.

“I’m showing more respect than you deserve,” she said coldly. The fact that she wasn’t afraid was starting to piss of Junior. He was so much taller than her and yet she was looking at him as if she was the tall one!

“I’ll show you respect!” Junior went to smack her, but her hand went up to block him, a loud snap and flash of light making Junior jerk back. His hand was… burned? What was she?

“I’ll leave now, and I hope the blood on your hands isn’t Scott’s, for your sake,” Rebecca warned, walking past and unlocking the door to let herself out.

“Blood? What-” Junior feigned ignorance.

“My horse told me,” Rebecca said nonchalantly, leaving the room. She knew it wasn’t safe to turn her back, but she could feel herself ready to explode in rage, she needed to get away from them or else she might actually hurt them. 

Junior, however, couldn’t take a hint.

He tried to grab Rebecca from behind in a choke hold. Key word being tried, as the moment he touched her he received a massive shock and dropped to the ground, twitching. Rebecca looked at him on the ground and sighed. He wasn’t dead, and he wasn’t knocked out, he just wouldn’t be able to move for a bit. At least not move in a controlled manner.

“Fine, your way,” Rebecca muttered and put her boot on Junior’s crouch, “will you tell me what I want, or do I need to hurt you more?”

“Fucking witch,” Junior spat, “Buttergoods never give in!”

“Is that so?” Rebecca stepped up onto Junior’s crouch, her entire weight on one foot as he wailed. She hopped back down but kept the boot ready to crush again. Laughter from Valdemar made her look into the room once more.

“Pain doesn’t bother Buttergoods, pain makes us strong!” Valdemar declared.

“And how strong are you when you’re dead?” Rebecca asked calmly.

“Bah, nothing is going to kill me!” Valdemar snarled. He would die on his terms.

“Oh?” Rebecca asked, stepping on Junior again as she walked back into the room, letting lightning form in her hands, “so a lightning bolt through the heart won’t kill you? Because I’d wager your heart isn’t so good. Should we make it a game? How many bolts does it take to stop the heart of a Buttergood?”

“You couldn’t,” Valdemar snorted.

“You would not be the first I killed,” Rebecca informed him, reaching her hand out, little arches of energy jumping between her and Valdemar. Junior, still on the floor from pain, watched in horror as the witch got closer.

“Dungeon! He’s in the dungeon! Bottom floor!” Junior cried, unable to watch his father die. He immediately sucked in a breath of fear, Valdemar glaring at him in fury.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Rebecca pulled back her hand, the lightning fading, “now, I believe Scott will want his phone back,” she said as she approached Junior on the floor and dug through his pockets. With the phone retrieved she headed downstairs, finding her way down after a bit of searching.

“Scott?” she called, wondering how many places in Jorvik had dungeons. 

“Becca?” she heard a weak voice call, and she followed it down the hall, seeing the chain and hands sticking out of the cell.

“Oh gods, I’m going to kill them,” Rebecca muttered, “I’ll get you out of here and then kill them.” 

“Just get me out of here,” Scott hissed. Rebecca realized she didn’t have the key.

“Uh, hm, move your hands as far away from the bar as you can,” Rebecca instructed, putting her hands on the chains and focusing on generating heat, “pull as hard as you can,” she added as the metal began to heat up. The iron melted and the chains snapped apart, Scott finally able to get up from his position face down on the floor. 

“Can you walk?” Rebecca asked, wanting to get him out of there as soon as possible.

“I…” Scott struggled to get up from the floor.

“Rest a moment, I’ll get the door,” Rebecca melted the lock on the door and pulled it open, nothing preventing Scott from leaving the cell now. Except that walking was difficult.

“You… Becca…” he hiccuped, trying to stop the tears as she entered the cell and helped him get his pants back on.

“Easy, I’ll patch you up enough for us to get out of here,” she shushed him, and hovered her hands over his back, focusing on directing energy into him and healing him.

“This is your fault,” he snarled, turning and glaring at her.

“You can yell at me when we get out of here, tell me what hurts and what needs the immediate healing,” she tried to not let his accusation hurt. But it was her fault.

“I don’t need you!” he snapped, struggling to his feet. To his great embarrassment he did need her help getting out of the house, and he realized he would need her help getting the shackles off. And he hated her for it. He hated what she had done to him, making him weak and soft, making him vulnerable. 

But he waited until after she had gotten the shackles off his wrists to say all that. Of course she had some random thing that would break iron, it happened to be some frozen berries and a good smack from a hammer. 

He glared at her as she cleaned up the shattered bits of iron and dropped them into a trash bin. He hated that she had brought him back to her stable, the memories it brought back were repulsive. 

“Do you want to shower before I heal you, or I can heal you first, or I could heal you in the shower,” she prattled off the options, disliking how he was looking at her.

“Heal first,” he grumbled, sitting while she used her magic to repair his body. She was a monster, wasn’t she? All the lightning and magic, it wasn’t natural. But the pain faded away to ghostly afterimages of hurt, his body healed.

“Do you want some food, water? Juice? A fuzzy blanket?” she offered, watching as he flexed and stretched. What he really needed was a new shirt and clean pants.

“Did I miss a spot?” she asked when he didn’t answer, looking at his hands and arms.

“No,” he muttered before standing up, towering over her.

“This is your fault,” he hissed and she nodded.

“I shouldn’t have taken you away from your work,” she conceded.

“You should have left me alone! I was fine before you! Then you came along and ruined my life!” he shouted at her, making her balk and shrink.

“Yeah, I’m so awful, making you actually have friends and connect with your emotions,” she pouted.

“Do you just like cursing people? Because every time you walk into someone’s life you ruin it!” that made her blink and look at him in shock. She couldn’t argue against that, she had been a sort of catalyst for Justin being taken, and she was also the reason Connie had been kidnapped.

“I just wanted to help,” she muttered, “I never meant to hurt anyone.”

“But you do hurt people! You hurt me! You have no idea-” he snapped his mouth shut, biting back the hurt. No hurt. No weakness. Only anger. “You have no idea what they did because of you!”

“Multiple lacerations, probably from the whips that were scattered around, bruising, internal bruising, cracked ribs, minor internal bleeding, I’d guess repeated blunt force trauma did all that. There was bruising and some damage to your windpipe. Multiple tears in, uh, yeah. And blunt force head injuries and some cuts,” she mumbled off the list.

“How?”

“Healing magic, lets me feel roughly what I am healing,” she explained with a shrug. That sort of stumped him for a bit before he growled again.

“So you can do all that but you didn’t know I was getting hurt?”

“Stop it,” she snapped, glaring back up at him, “I worry about you, all of you, every day. I’m constantly terrified that one of you is going to get kidnapped or tortured or killed. But that’s a risk you knew about when you got involved with me. I warned you, all of you, about what might happen. I advised you pretty strongly to stay away but you didn’t. You made that decision yourself.”

“Oh you’re blaming me! I was perfectly fine without you! You came in and did some witch seduction magic and made me like guys!” he accused her right back.

“Ah, they found out,” Rebecca muttered, finally understanding, “I provided a safe place for you to explore yourself. I didn’t do any sort of magic to make you my friend or interested in guys.”

“Well I wasn’t interested before I met you!”

“Because of the internalized homophobia, probably,” Rebecca pointed out, “now should I set up a bed for you here? You need sleep.”

“Sleep? What is with you?” he demanded.

“You’ve had a very bad day so I’m excusing some of your behavior, you’ve got a lot of emotions and trauma to deal with and it is very fresh. Plus you probably don’t know what to do or where to direct most of your emotions-”

“Oh stop the psychoanalysis bullshit!” he cried in frustration, gesturing and pacing now.

“Would you rather leave and be on your own?” Rebecca asked, watching as the emotions raced across his face. At first he was going to say yes and storm out, but then the reality of it hit. He was a mess, he had only the money in his wallet, he couldn’t go walking around in a blood torn shirt. And he was starving. Were Junior and his father looking for him? Would they drag him back? He didn’t want to go back, he couldn’t go back.

 

“Oh fuck,” Scott muttered, knees going weak and he plopped down to the ground. The nightmare was over. But it had happened, it wasn’t a dream, Junior had really…

“Oh fuck,” he whispered again, beginning to shake. No, he wouldn’t dissolve into a blubbering mess!

“They’ll suffer, I’ll kill them,” he growled, turning his distress to hate and revenge. Rebecca’s gentle hands made him focus on her, she was kneeling on the ground next to him.

“It’s okay to feel anger, you can get your revenge after you sleep,” she advised.

How did she do that? She always knew how to break through him. 

Before he could stop it he was sobbing in her arms. He tried to hold her but it turned into her holding him as he clutched himself, gripping her hands, terrified she’d vanish and he’d be back in the nightmare. Everything became a blur of tears, he was vaguely aware she got him into the shower, washing the gore off him, then she pulled away from him long enough to get the bed set up in the tack room. She wrapped him in her fuzziest and coziest blankets, cocooning him until he was surrounded by warmth and her smell, safe in her arms.


	9. Chapter 9

Rebecca said nothing to Scott’s near catatonic state after he broke down. She wasn’t surprised he had just shut down, it was a lot of trauma to deal with in one day. At least he wasn’t unconscious, and was generally compliant as she got him up from the ground.

He numbly followed the gentle pressure of her hands as she guided him to the shower, lost in his tears. She doubted he even noticed when she undressed him and got him into the shower. His skin twitched and jerked as she carefully washed him off. Even if he was healed she knew from experience that he would still be tender and tingling, feeling phantom pain. By the time she finished cleaning him he had stopped sobbing, out of tears, now staring blankly at the ground.

Thankfully Rebecca was now stocked with spare clothes for her friends and after drying Scott off got him into sweatpants. He didn’t react when she left him in the hallway, he remained in place as she got all the blankets and pillows she had. She had a feeling he would stay there, not moving, until his body gave out.

But she didn’t wait for that to happen, instead wrapping him in her favorite blanket and tucking him into bed. To her relief he was snoring softly in a matter of minutes, sleep taking him to blissful unawareness. 

“Scott’s family found out,” she texted the friend group, curled around Scott and too worked up to sleep.

Tor: :(  
Justin: Is he okay???  
Rebecca: no. he is asleep now at least  
Justin: he is with you?  
Rebecca: yeah, at my stable. He’ll probably need a place to crash though, idk if it is safe for him to go back  
Justin: :(((  
Tor: I can get him an apartment in the city  
Connie: If I had a stop I would offer one. I’m sure the baroness wouldn’t mind another hard worker?  
Justin: Dad would also take him in!  
Louisa: Oh no! That’s awful! Was he hurt? And Justin that’s an awful idea the bobcats would eat him alive.  
Rebecca: hopefully he’ll be okay with going to the bangalow tomorrow and we can figure out stuff then when he is awake.   
Tor: good idea  
Rebecca: and yeah, he was hurt >.<  
Connie: call the cops!  
Louisa: >:(  
Justin: those fucks.  
Tor: how bad?  
Rebecca: I healed him, so the evidence is gone >.> oops. Should have asked before I did that  
Louisa: so not too bad?  
Rebecca: he’ll be sore but he shouldn’t have scars. He’ll be mentally fucked up for a while though  
Tor: where does he keep his stuff?  
Louisa: :( poor dude  
Rebecca: huh?  
Tor: if it isn’t safe for him to go back we should get his shit before his family can destroy it out of spite  
Justin: oh smart!  
Rebecca: ooooh okay. I think all his important stuff is in the toolshed by the bridge. its door is busted open you can’t miss it. idk about like any papers like birth certificate but idk how important that is on jorvik?  
Tor: have I seen the toolshed?  
Justin: I can get you there.   
Connie: Justin, can you bring horses so we can transport things easier?  
Justin: I don’t actually control that herd of ponies you know  
Louisa: I can bring the horses. Meet at the bangalow and head over there?  
Rebecca: let me know how it goes, be careful. I’ll make sure Scott stays asleep  
Justin: what are you going to do smoother him if he wakes up?  
Rebecca: hopefully not.

Rebecca silenced her phone and set it away. She was glad the notification noises on her phone hadn’t woken up Scott, but he seemed content to bury into the blankets and disappear. 

She drew in a deep breath, trying to relax, and settled down. They were safe here, his family didn’t know who she was, and even if they were followed she had protection: a herd of angry horses for one and numerous pets. She had no doubt her horses would trample anyone who tried to break in and hurt her.


End file.
